Holes in the Floor of Heaven
by LSMunch
Summary: Cause there's holes in the floor of Heaven and his tears are pourin' down that's how you know he's watchin' wishin' he could be here now
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Yeah, so if John ever wants to leave... my house is open...

Holes in the Floor of Heaven

"I don't know how to explain. Don't you get that? Or haven't you been listening to me?" He looks at me, but I don't say anything. Instead, I return his gaze, waiting to see if he'll open up, which I hope he does. He needs it. "It hurts... somewhere deep inside my chest. But it fells like a hole there. As if something's missing. As if I'm missing my heart, or my soul. And it hurts so bad, all the time. Just sits there and it won't go away. It won't leave me alone. No matter what's happening around me, it's there. Maybe it's too many dead bodies. Maybe it's too many victim's tearing at me every day. I don't know. But it hurts. And I can't seem to find a way around it. I just can't." His voice started strong, but now is desolate, devoid of anything but sadness and despair.

I watch as he moves to the window, looking out to the city. The city he's told me he hates, but can't leave, because Baltimore's worse. The only way he'll get to Baltimore is in a casket to be buried with his mother and father. At least, that's what he says. Given the chance, I think he would go back, if only to visit friends of the past. But he would go.

I stand up and walk up next to him, following his gaze in the reflection on the glass. He's looking into a lit apartment window across the street. I see the silhouettes of a woman and her child. "You see those people?" He nods his head in the direction of the distant window, his voice calm, subdued, quiet.

"What about them?" I take the same tone as him, following his lead.

"That child has no father, at least, non that she can remember. The woman is a single mom, raising her child in this city. She probably has two jobs, maybe more. Every morning, she leaves before her child wakes and every night returns after he's gone to bed. Tonight... tonight she got laid off one job because maybe the week before she had to take off because her child was sick and she couldn't afford a babysitter to take care of him."

"You know all this just by looking through their window at their shadows?"

"It's the same, everywhere. All through this city, all through this country, are families, torn apart and doing their best to survive. To send their kid to college. To live another week without being at the wrong end of a crime. And I get to see it. Every day, I get to witness women torn and bleeding and just waiting for closure, just waiting for someone to pay for what happened to them. Every day, I get a front row seat to these women, some strong, others not, all changed forever, sometimes for the better, others not."

"It's not all like that, and you know that."

"The parts I see, they're all like that, sometimes worse. And you know what, I'm sick of it. I'm sick of seeing families ripped to pieces and trying desperately to regain some of what used to be. Some normalcy, but the truth is, they'll never be the same and no matter how hard they try, they're going to live and die differently than they ever planned. I just want it all to end. For it all to be okay."

I look at him, still staring at the broken family across the street. "John, have you ever thought about suicide?" I don't really think him capable, but if he ever thought hard enough about all these horrible crimes he sees day in, day out...

"I've thought about the consequences of suicide, but never committing it."

"But it would be so much easier to throw it all away and be able to finally be in peace, wouldn't it?"

"No." Simple enough, but I have a feeling there's something more behind it.

"Anyone you know ever commit suicide?"

"Yes. A supposed rape victim took a dose of insulin and died right in front of me."

"I meant someone you knew, family, friends."

Tearing his eyes away from the window he looks at me. "If you don't mind, I have a dinner invitation I would like to fulfill tonight."

I glance at my watch. "I suppose an hour's long enough." He turns and goes towards the door, grabbing his coat off the hook.

Putting on his scarf, he turns to me, "Same time next week, doc?"

I smile a bit. Always reverts back to jokes. "Yeah, John. Same time."

"I'll be sure to make dinner reservations earlier then," he jokes.

"I suppose I'll just have to join you in that case."

"Not if I can help it." And he's out the door, bundled up against the bitter winds that fill the canyon like streets of New York.


	2. Chapter 2

"I talked with Skoda yesterday," I say into the silence of the car.

He nods. "Good." Pause. "It help?"

I shrug. "I don't think it helped as much as everyone thought it would."

"But it helped?" he presses.

"S'pose so." Silence reigns again.

"You gonna go again?"

"S'pose so. Why? You want me to recommend you?" I smile.

He takes the defensive. "I just wanna make sure my partner's takin' care of himself."

Should I rip him a new for that? Or just say 'Thanks partner' and let it slide? Hmm... "Do you think I really need it?" I finally say.

"We all need it," he responds, playing it safe. "I don't think you can survive the job without some sort o' outlet," he elaborates. "You just gotta care enough to do it."

"Have you?"

He's quiet.

"Let me guess, you haven't gotten a chance."

"I know, man. Shut up." He seems peeved that I asked.

"Hey, relax. I understand that sitting home alone, pondering the meaning of human existence is all consuming."

"Maybe that's what you do..."

"You're still young; you've got time to realize women just run circles around us."

"Man, you been around a little too long, if you ask me."

"Don't worry, I'm not." He doesn't say anything else, so I fill in the silence with two words that seem to reverberate off the insides of the car. "Thanks, partner."


End file.
